The 100 Thanksgiving
by P1nkPumpkin
Summary: The 100's first Thanksgiving and Clarke with help of Bellamy puts it together. Bellarke Fluff.


Hope you all like this story, I Co-wrote this with amazing AvengerGirl17.

We hope you enjoy this up coming holiday.

:-)

* * *

Clarke sat on the floor of the drop ship, her brow furrowed as she studied the list she was compiling- gauze and bandages piled all around. The nights were becoming colder, and the frost was clinging to the grass far longer than it had. She knew that with the cooler temperatures came more worries for the camp, and she wanted to be as prepared as she could for their first winter on the Ground.

She looked through her supply of herbs, her own handwriting scrawled on the lids to identify what was what. She couldn't believe how much she'd learned since she'd come here, and it felt like the Ark was a distant memory.

How long had they been here? It seemed like the days had blended into weeks, and now months had passed. Clarke tried to remember, doing a mental count of the days, but that proved difficult.

She looked up at the hatch, knowing Monty would be working on one of his projects in the quiet away from the rambunctious kids outside.

"Hey, Monty," Clarke called, "What is today's date?"

There was silence for a moment, and she could almost picture his thoughtful frown as he made his calculations.

"November 25th," he yelled, his face coming into view above her, "Why?"

Clarke nodded, "Just wondering! Thanks Monty!"

She went back to her list, but she had a nagging feeling that there was something important about the following day. Finally she had to lay aside her inventory, her mind wandering over the various celebrations she remembered.

Then it hit her! It wasn't a celebration they'd celebrated on the Ark, but an old tradition from Earth her father had told her the story of Thanksgiving. She smiled, setting aside her list and quickly making her way out into the crisp autumn air. This was just what the camp needed.

"Everyone," Clarke called, waving her arms, "Gather round!"

The kids quickly crowded in, staring at her like she'd lost her mind. They'd seen Clarke Griffin excited, but never like this. She was actually smiling, to their wonderment, the ever-present worry faded from her gaze.

"Tomorrow is a very important day," she began, "It's Thanksgiving. This holiday was celebrated on Earth before the cataclysm!"

Clarke looked at the crowd of teens, their faces registering their confusion. They began to murmur amongst themselves, shaking their heads before turning to go back to work. She felt her shoulders slump in defeat, ready to give up on the idea that had only just taken root.

However, help came from a very unexpected source when Bellamy Blake stepped up beside her on the ramp.

"Hey," he yelled, his booming voice echoing on the chilly air, "This isn't another dumb holiday made up by the Ark. This is a tradition born here, on Earth. It's about being thankful for what you have, and the people you love. The way I see it, we have a lot to be thankful for. So, what do you say we bring back Thanksgiving and make it our own!"

A cheer went up from the crowd, and Clarke couldn't help the smile that tilted her lips. She had to admit that Bellamy knew how to sway the masses. He was an enigmatic leader, even if he couldn't see it.

"So, Princess," Bellamy said, lips quirking in one of his famous smirks, "How are we going to pull this off?"

Clarke tilted her head in thought, trying to remember what her father had told her.

"We'll have a feast," she said finally, shaking her head at the glint in his dark eyes, "And no, Monty's moonshine is not going to be involved."

"Awww, you're no fun," he said with a chuckle.

"Well why don't you disperse your mob and then we'll talk this out in the drop ship," Clarke said mockingly, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

"Alright everyone, back to work," Bellamy boomed, "We'll give you job assignments for what needs to be done later."

They made their way inside, his shoulder brushing hers. They stood in silence for a moment, Clarke bending to pick up her scraps of paper so she could begin a new list for the things they would need.

"You know, we're really going to have to work on your people skills, Princess," Bellamy smirked as she straightened, his arms crossed defiantly.

Clarke wanted to scoff, but his smile was infectious and she ended up chuckling instead, "I was not that bad!"

"Oh come one," Bellamy snorted, "You were drowning out there!"

"Whatever you say Mr. Charisma," Clarke said with a shake of her head, "Let's get back to business."

"Fine," he huffed, "What do you need?"

"We need fresh meat," she began, "Before the cataclysm they would have had Turkey. Have you seen any on your hunting excursions?"

"I've seen some, they might not be easy to find but I'll try. What else," Bellamy asked, all business now.

"If you don't find any just get a deer, meat is meat. I'm going to take a gathering detail out to find any berries that might have survived the frost. We've got some left, but it wouldn't hurt to have extra. I might also look for some nuts, the safe kind without hallucinogenic properties," Clarke said, tapping her pencil eraser against her chin.

"No," Bellamy said, shaking his head, "One of us has to stay in camp. We can send Lincoln out with the gathering party."

"He would be of more use with your hunting party," Clarke argued, her hands on her hips as she faced him.

"I said no, Clarke. You're staying in camp. That's final," he said, his voice gruff.

"You're being unreasonable! We'll get more accomplished this way," she said, her voice rising.

Bellamy sighed, surprising her by placing his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes colliding with her much lighter ones.

"Please, Princess, don't argue with me on this," he said, his velvety gaze doing funny things to her heart.

She found herself nodding, unable to form a coherent reply.

"Thank you, Clarke," Bellamy said, his smile returning, "I'll be back before dark."

Bellamy walked out of the drop ship, the cold wind stinging his face. He tugged the collar of his jacket up, adjusting the strap of his rifle as his gaze searched out Nathan Miller. He found him easily, already in conversation with the other two men he needed to speak with.

He approached the group where they stood around a small fire warming their hands. He came to a stop between Lincoln and Murphy, rubbing his palms together and then reached out to the flames.

"Nate, I need you to round up the hunting party. Clarke wants fresh meat."

"Sure thing, Boss," Miller said before leaving the warmth of the fire.

"Lincoln," Bellamy said, turning to the big Grounder, "I need you to take a small gathering party out to get berries and nuts. Clarke doesn't want to deplete our supplies."

Bellamy watched the man nod, before stalking off to recruit his gathering part. He then turned to Murphy. A lot had changed since he'd been banished. He wasn't the creep he'd been before- he'd become someone the Rebel could trust.

"I need you to stay here and keep an eye on camp," Bellamy said, his tone serious and low, "If anything happens you'll send word to me."

Murphy nodded solemnly, speaking as Bellamy turned to leave, "Don't worry, I'll keep her safe."

Bellamy gave a jerky nod, making his way to where Miller stood with a group with rifles slung on their shoulders. To some, Murphy's promise might have been a reference to Octavia, but he knew better. His eyes were giving him away- seeking out Clarke more than he would ever like to admit, and revealing feelings he would prefer to bury.

"Let's move out, I want to be back by dark," he said, leading the way out the gates.

His hands were shoved in his pockets as he picked his way through the forest, the brush growing thicker and the temperatures dropping. He looked up at the fluffy gray clouds, worried that they'd soon be facing their first snow.

Bellamy wasn't the best tracker, that's what Spacewalker was for. He couldn't stand the guy, but it did make his job easier. He could let his mind wander to other responsibilities while Finn did his part for once.

They walked around in the ever-darkening forest, feet cold and fingers numb. Bellamy thought for sure they wouldn't ever find any of the birds, and that was a disappointment. He wanted to bring Clarke back what she wanted, but he told himself it was just to prove a point.

He was just about to call it and suggest they just find a few deer to bring back when he spotted a flock of the elusive birds in a little open field. He stopped, calling for everyone to be quiet. He raised his rifle, six others doing the same.

The echo was nearly deafening as they shot, birds dropping left and right. Bellamy smiled when the smoke settled and they had seven good-sized Turkeys to take back to camp.

It would be a chore plucking them, but he thought it would be worth it. They carried their bounty back to camp, meeting up with Lincoln and his group with sacks filled with berries and nuts.

"Did you have any trouble," Bellamy asked as they walked, two birds dangling from a piece of rope slung over his shoulder.

"No, it was quiet," Lincoln replied, looking over his shoulder at the rag-tag group following them.

"They deserve something good," Bellamy said quietly, "After everything that's happened, after everyone who's let them down."

Lincoln nodded. Octavia had told him about the Ark, and how she and the rest had come to be here. He couldn't fathom a society that would elicit such fear that a child would have to be hidden under the floor her entire life.

"Especially Clarke," Bellamy went on quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, "She's been killing herself trying to make sure that we all survive, and I just wish she could relax without looking over her shoulder for the next threat."

The Grounder looked at the man beside him- worry deeply evident in the lines of his face. He knew that Bellamy cared for Clarke; he'd seen it far too many times to discount it.

"It will not always be this hard, Bellamy," Lincoln said, "There will come a day when we will live in peace."

Bellamy looked up at the stars blinking above them, "I hope you're right, Lincoln, I hope you're right…"

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Clarke was pacing near the gate, anxiously gazing out into the open field. It was well past dark, the air nipping at her skin as it blew down from the mountains. She rubbed her hands together, searching the tree line as she began her pacing again.

She hated watching Bellamy walk out those gates- never knowing if he'd be back. She couldn't do this without him; there was no way they would survive. She told herself that was the only reason- survival.

After Finn, she'd become skittish. She couldn't allow herself to love that easily again it was too painful. She knew in her heart that Bellamy was different, and perhaps there was more than her past heartbreak holding her back.

She thought back to the day her father was floated, a fresh wave of pain crashing over her. That was it, that was the reason. She couldn't lose another person that meant that much to her.

Clarke sighed, she'd tried to keep Bellamy at arm's length. It had been easy at first when all they did was fight, but now things were different. She'd come to rely on him, and not just in camp matters.

If she had a problem, Bellamy was the first person she sought out. When she just couldn't take it anymore, when the stress became too much, she would catch his gaze across camp and there she would find the strength to carry on. He'd become too important.

She heard a shout, looking up in relief as Bellamy and Lincoln led their two groups back through the gates.

"Miss me, Princess," Bellamy asked, his dark eyes shining with humor.

"In your dreams, Blake," Clarke smirked, " I see you were successful."

"Of course," Bellamy said with an indignant snort, "Did you doubt me?"

Clarke stared up at him, so close she could smell the woodsy scent that clung to his skin.

"Never," she said softly, more serious than she'd intended.

She hoped he hadn't picked up on that, but Bellamy was the most perceptive human being she knew. He didn't say anything, but there was something in his brown eyes that she couldn't quite place.

"Alright, get these birds cleaned up," Bellamy ordered, his gaze never leaving Clarke, "We need to get them in the smokehouse if they're going to be ready for tomorrow."

"That was an ingenious idea," Clarke said as she stepped in stride beside him.

Bellamy had commissioned the building of the smokehouse a few weeks back, saying they would need a way to cure meat in the coming winter. Smoking it would make it last longer, and they wouldn't waste.

"It was, wasn't it," Bellamy smirked.

"I should have known that would go straight to your head," Clarke said with a mocking sigh.

Bellamy chuckled, taking a seat beside her near the fire. A plate of food was brought for each of the people that had been out in search of food. Conversation flowed easily, plans being made for the following day popping up here and there.

"The meat should be finished by around noon," Bellamy said, speaking around a mouthful of venison.

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Don't talk with your mouth full. How many times did you tell me that?"

"We're on earth now," Bellamy pouted.

"That doesn't mean you get to be a slob," Octavia quipped, folding her arms in defiance.

"Fine," Bellamy mumbled, chewing and swallowing before speaking again.

Clarke had to cover her mouth to muffle her chuckle, but he still heard her. He glared fiercely, but she could see the twitch of a smirk at the corner of his lips and the spark in his brown eyes.

They talked for a little while longer, and then it was time to turn in for the night. Clarke made her way back to her tent where it was situated close to Bellamy's. They said their goodnights then separated to each find their rest.

100100100100100100100

The next morning Clarke woke with a start. She lay staring at the brightly colored fabric above her, mentally ticking through her to-do list for the day. She allowed herself a moment to think, giving her time to fully wake up before she started to get up.

When she threw off her fur pelts, cold air banished the warmth of her little cocoon. She jumped up, quickly pulling on her pants, jacket, and socks before cramming her feet down in her boots.

Clarke ran out of her tent, and right into Bellamy. He caught her against his chest to keep her from falling, staring down at her with tired brown eyes.

"What's the rush, Princess," he asked groggily.

"I've got a lot to do, Bellamy. Let me go," Clarke whined, squirming out of his hold.

She took off, but Bellamy fell into step beside her. She glanced over at him, fondness rising up within her at the sight of his tousled curls and the yawn he fought to hide. He worked so hard, and she knew he carried a heavy burden on those broad shoulders.

"Did you get any sleep last night," his deep voice rumbled, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I slept pretty well," Clarke answered, "What about you?"

"I could've used another hour or two," Bellamy replied with a heavy sigh.

"Why didn't you sleep in," she asked.

"Things to do, just like you," he said, his dark eyes fixed on her.

Clarke nodded, wishing for once he could be allowed to rest. The kids always brought problems and concerns to him no matter the hour. She knew he did this to shield her, but she wished he would allow her to shoulder more of his burden.

"Go get breakfast, Bellamy," she said with a soft smile, "and some of Monty's tea. You were out in the weather all day yesterday, we can't have you getting sick."

Bellamy shook his head, but went to do as she'd ordered. She knew he would be seeking her out soon to be sure she'd eaten, but she had some things to get done first.

Clarke first commissioned a few girls to tidy up the drop ship, and then she collected anything she could find that they could use to toast the nuts. She gave a few kids the job of washing the berries, checked on the Turkeys, and then finished up her inventory of medical from the day before.

She'd just put away her list when Bellamy came in, a determined light in his brown eyes.

"Clarke," he began, and she knew this would not be pretty, "What have you been doing?"

She shrugged, "Preparing for our feast."

"I could've helped," Bellamy said, crossing his arms, "Why do you think you have to do everything by yourself."

Clarke stood so she wasn't looking up at him, granted she was always looking up at Bellamy, "Pardon me for trying to give you some time to relax. I figured it was the least I could do since you spent most of the day away from camp yesterday."

"You're insufferable," Bellamy growled, "We do things together Clarke!"

"Why are you so angry about this, Bellamy," Clarke asked, "It's not like I marched into Grounder territory to wage war by myself! I just took care of a few little things while you were eating breakfast."

"Because we're a team Clarke," Bellamy said, almost tiredly, "You can't do it all by yourself."

"I'm not trying to," she argued, "I've delegated quite a few tasks this morning!"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Bellamy said, stepping closer until his breath ghosted over her forehead.

"I know what you mean, Bellamy, I just don't want to add to your burden," Clarke said, unable to be angry when he was this close.

"My burden," Bellamy asked softly, "Clarke, it's not mine or yours- it's ours. We shoulder it together. These are our people, and we lead them together."

Clarke felt him take her hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over her knuckles. His skin was warm, but that was no surprise. Bellamy just exuded heat, burning her alive like a furnace some days and others he was the soft warmth of the sun.

"Together," she agreed, both leaning in imperceptibly.

Just before his lips could brush her own, Monty came walking into the drop ship. They jumped apart, red tinting Clarke's cheeks and Bellamy running a hand through his unruly curls in frustration.

"What do you want, Monty," Bellamy asked, his voice gruff and low.

"Uh…," Monty stammered, unbelievably happy at what he'd just interrupted.

"Monty," Clarke said, "What did you need?"

"Oh, I was just going to tell you that Thanksgiving is ready and waiting on you," Monty said with a bright smile.

Clarke sighed, "Thank you, Monty. We'll be right out."

Monty turned and rushed out, bumping into Jasper on the ramp.

"What was that about? Are Mom and Dad having another fight," Jasper asked with a shake of his head, "Because it wouldn't be Thanksgiving if they didn't!"

He chuckled at his own joke until Monty poked him in the ribs, "They were about to kiss!"

Jasper choked, spluttering with wide eyes, "What?!"

"They were about to kiss! I saw it," Monty yipped, his dark eyes filled with glee.

Just then Octavia walked up, brow quirked at the little celebration the camp goofballs were having.

"What is up with you two," she asked, crossing her arms.

"Monty saw-" Jasper began before Monty covered his mouth.

"Monty saw what," Lincoln asked, coming up behind Octavia.

"I saw Clarke and Bellamy, and they were about to kiss," Monty whisper yelled.

"What," Octavia asked, her jaw going slack.

"Are you sure," Lincoln asked, unsurprised.

"I'm sure! I interrupted," Monty said proudly, wilting at Octavia's fierce glare, "I didn't mean too!"

"I knew it," Octavia said victoriously, "I knew he loved her!"

"Why don't we keep this to ourselves until they figure things out," Lincoln suggested, "We don't want to make things difficult for them."

"Good idea," Jasper said, "Keep it to ourselves!"

"Yes, Jasper," Octavia said, stepping closer and placing one trim finger at the center of his chest, "Keep it to yourself!"

Jasper nodded quickly, his face wreathed in smiles.

"It's hopeless," Octavia sighed, running a hand over her face.

Just then Bellamy and Clarke exited the drop ship, their gazes falling on the little group huddled at the bottom of the ramp.

"What's going on," Bellamy asked, his brow furrowing.

"Nothing," Octavia said sweetly, "Jasper was just telling how excited he is about Thanksgiving. Weren't you Jasper?"

Jasper grunted softly when her elbow connected with his side, "Oof, yeah! That's exactly what I was doing…"

"Ok," Clarke said, suspicious, "Well why don't we get everyone gathered up so we can eat."

"I'll do it," Jasper said, rushing off yelling, "It's time to eat!"

Bellamy stared at his sister, her blue eyes sparkling. He gave her a questioning look, but she just smiled and winked before flouncing off with Lincoln in tow.

"They're up to something," Clarke said with a shake of her head, "and I don't like it…"

"Me neither, but let's interrogate them later. I'm hungry," Bellamy smirked, offering his arm like a gallant gentleman, "May I escort you to the feast, Princess?"

Clarke giggled at his silliness, "Why yes you may, Mr. Blake."

When they finally arrived at the rows of rough-hewn tables they stopped, Clarke's arm falling from Bellamy's.

"Happy Thanksgiving everyone," she said brightly, "Before we eat I thought we could go around and tell what we're thankful for in the spirit of new traditions."

An unhappy murmur went up from the crowd until Bellamy spoke, his heated glare causing the kids to cringe.

"You've got a lot to be thankful for, so Jasper start us off." Bellamy ordered.

"Yes Dad," Jasper grumbled, shrinking back at Bellamy's growl, "Ok, I'm thankful for food! I thought we'd all starve…"

Clarke and Bellamy shared a look, the whole camp bursting with laughter.

"I'm thankful for old friends," Monty said with a smile.

"I'm thankful for new friends," Octavia said, taking Lincoln's hand.

Around it went, each person telling what he or she was thankful for. Finally it came down to Bellamy and Clarke.

"Alright, what are you thankful for, " Raven asked, "Everyone else had to do it, so lead by example you two."

"I'm thankful for home," Clarke said softly, her soft gaze fixed on Bellamy.

"I'm thankful for family," Bellamy replied, surprising everyone when his dark eyes were staring down at Clarke instead of Octavia.

"Well that answers that question," Raven mumbled, Finn's eyes widening.

"What do you mean," he whispered.

"You'll find out soon enough," Raven said, her gaze catching that of a grinning Octavia.

Clarke tore her gaze away from Bellamy's, her cheeks blooming pink, "Alright, everyone dig in!"

A cheer went up as the kids began to gorge themselves on their first Thanksgiving feast. Clarke sat down next to Bellamy, watching him as he spoke to Miller. He laughed, and the sound filled her with warmth.

She looked around at her friends, the people who'd come to mean so much to her, and she couldn't help but smile until her face hurt. Sure tomorrow they would have to face their problems with the Grounders and the dangers of this planet they now called home, but for today she was just happy.

Clarke felt someone take her hand, and looked up to find Bellamy smiling down at her.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Princess," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Bellamy," Clarke replied.

In that moment, it didn't matter what had happened in the past or what the future might hold. Clarke realized that she wouldn't trade this for anything. Here with Bellamy, leading their people, this is where she wanted to be.


End file.
